


Amare draconem

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Case Fic, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Shapeshifting, Slow Build, Were-Dragons, Were-Society, friends to lover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 10:04:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1854058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock & John are flatmates and Sherlock hiding a secret that he can shapeshift into a very beautiful dragon that breathes fire and flies around the mountains in northern England. John has no clue and has gotten used to his flatmate taking off every so often for random 'cases', but what happens when his secret world is revealed to John in a very unconventional way. Will he pack his bags and look for a new flatmate? Or will he stay around to protect him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Trip

**Author's Note:**

> Not Beat Picked  
> Not Brit Picked either

Pressed deep into his chair, black curls ruffled by his fingers the slender man looked on into the kitchen, fingers plucking against the bow strings. His feet extended out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. Across from him with paper in hand was a blond man. His hair was kept short in remembrance of his military days, a habit not easily broken. Those soft blue eyes scanned the paper but couldn’t find anything of interest to read but settled on reading an article about some new shop. The silence that carried on between these two men wasn’t out of tension but comfort; they didn’t need words to communicate to each other and enjoyed the silence.

        A ringtone broke the air as the violin holder reached into his suit pocket and retrieved the phone; he looked over the text before sitting up to slide the violin under his chair.

        “Come along John, the game is on.” His voice was deep as John looked up from his paper a sparkle of interest in his blue eyes. Together they set off getting ready; John pushed his feet into his shoes and grabbed his wallet off the coffee table. The dark brunet existed for his room and pulled on a pair of socks and his shoes, reaching for his coat and scarf before looking back at John, the doctor gave a nod and without a sound they exited their flat. A pale hand reached up and caught the attention of a taxi driver, a tan hand reached for the door handle first and motioned for his taller companion to enter first before he ducked inside. Words were given to the cabbie as the two settled into their respective seats. Grey eyes stared out the window but he wasn’t watching the people pass by; however, blue eyes watched the people and smiled at a pleasing sight every so many minutes.

        Arriving just a block away from the crime scene, a black coat bellowed in the slight wind as his long fingers were buried into the pocket to remain warm. John pulled the top of his coat closer to him and huddled in as he followed his flat mate. It wasn’t long until a familiar grey haired man greeted them; John gave a smile and nod in greeting.

        “Thank you for coming Sherlock, we thought it was a suicide but something about it looks odd. I figured you could take a look.”

        “It’s a mystery to me Lestrade how you ever became a detective with needing my help all the time. How could you have possibly managed?” He remarked before given the nod of approval by Lestrade to the two officers posted at the door to the crime scene. Sherlock’s comment was for the most part ignored by the grey detective as he had learned long ago not to take offence to his consultant’s words, it was just how Sherlock was and because the man was brilliant Lestrade was willing to put up with it. He didn’t need to give Sherlock too many details and knew it was best to just let the man work. John knew his place as well and waited close to the flurry that was his flat mate as he worked around the scene mumbling under his breath until he motioned for John to come closer to the body.

        “What do you see?” He asked him a smug look on his face, he already knew what he say but wanted another opinion, one from a man that didn’t know what really happened unless he was told.

        “Um..she was hung but it wasn’t suicide. The way the knot is sitting at the base of her neck means someone else tied her up.” Taking out a pair of latex gloves he had grown accustomed to carrying around with him, he gently pulled open the woman’s eye-lid but was met with no petechial hemorrhage. While he wasn’t a pathologist it didn’t take much to realize she wasn’t strangled like it was set up to look like.  

         
        “There isn’t any petechial hemorrhaging so it’s not likely she was really strangled. I think it was staged.” John finally finished his train of thought and Sherlock was already preparing for his explanation of the murder and the likely suspect.

        “John actually did decently but like always he didn’t observe anything.” He waited for John to mumble a curse or call him a prat but when it didn’t happen he kept going.

        “The victim is likely in the fashion line of work from her expensive taste. Parents have money and she is an only child which allows her to spend their money freely. She had a lover that became jealous. The victim’s lover wasn’t happy about finding out that our little fashion designer was in fact sleeping with a man. Yes she was bisexual and perhaps met a man if you notice the condom wrapper in her bin. For whatever reason she was seeing a man I’m assuming it’s because her female lover was trying to spend more of her money, see the bank statements on the bedside table. That isn’t the spending pattern of just one woman but two and maybe some of those charges weren’t meant to have happened.” Sherlock paused for breath before turning back to the body.

        “The victim’s lover was driven to the extreme and intended to drug her girlfriend and make off with whatever cash she could and perhaps a card or two and skip out of London. However, the killer is no chemist and most likely gave her sleeping pill but the nature of fashion types is skipping meals from time to time that caused the drug to be absorbed too quickly and cause her heart to stop. The murder didn’t stage the accident, it was likely the boyfriend came around and saw it and rather than be considered a suspect he staged the scene and most likely intended to discover her body later this evening. Your murder is a young woman most likely think black hair because our victim his light haired and there are a few long black hairs still on the pillow cases. The boyfriend is muscular enough to pick up dead weight and hang her to stage the suicide. The murdered is on the last train out of London with two or three bags with her, this woman is on the run.” Sherlock finished his deductions to turn around and see John smiling and Lestrade taking down notes.

        “Brilliant as always!” John praised and Sherlock looked away to avoid the possible flush on his cheeks. Lestrade turned to his officers and gave them their orders before turning back to nod at Sherlock.

        “Thank again I greatly appreciate it.” He was sincere before heading out of the room and out the door to start the woman hunt.

        “That was fast even for you.” John thought to add as they were ushered out of the room so the team could collect the rest of the evidence, the day had started to clear and John was thinking about walking to Baker Street, Sherlock perhaps didn’t but he would no matter what.

        “It was barely a five but I’ve been itching for a case which brings me to what I’ve been meaning to say. I need to leave London and no you may not come. It’s not for a case it’s for my own personal needs. Family and what not, I’ll be gone rest of the week and probably won’t return until Sunday evening. I hope you can manage without me.” Sherlock teased a little as John nodded. The doctor did find it odd that Sherlock was taking a trip out of London that wasn’t for a case but at the words personal need had the questions stopped there. It wasn’t like John to pry into Sherlock’s personal life no matter how badly he wanted to know why his flat mate was leaving. Gearing up to ask a quick question, he opened his mouth in time to see Sherlock’s pale hand in the air waving down a cab.

        “Coming John?” Sherlock asked as he waited at the door of the cab.

        “No I feel like walking. “ John answered as he smiled to his friend.

        “I’ll be gone by the time you return to the flat.”  Sherlock said just as he got into the cab, John waved good bye and nodded before setting off on his walk. It was quiet because John wasn’t paying attention to people and he enjoyed it but knowing that when he got home it would be empty had a little uneasy feeling in his stomach. It didn’t matter that he and Sherlock didn’t spend all day talking to each other; he knew he’d miss the man’s company even if it was only for a few days.

        On his way back to the flat, Sherlock dug out his phone and typed a few words to his brother.

_Itching for a shift, heading to my place –SH_

_Careful brother dear tourists have started to frequent the area. – MH_

_I’m not stupid. I’ll stay in the moonlight – SH_

_Keep an eye on John – SH_

_Brother you really ought to tell him – MH_

_I’ll tell him when I am ready – SH_

That was the last of text messages from his brother and just in time to arrive home. Up the steps and into the flat he noticed the empty feeling upon arrival. He didn’t like coming home to so much space that wasn’t filled with John’s presence. Sherlock didn’t waste any time and quickly grabbed his go bag and returned to the cab waiting outside. To the train station he went where he was ushered into a private carriage paid for by his brother and settled in for the trip. Phone once again out of his pocket the thumbed against the screen and thought of texting John but instead the good doctor texted him.

_Thanks for using all the milk again. I’ll make sure to dump out all your experiments. – JW_

_Just leave the tongue alone it is very sensitive and I’ll need it when I get back – SH_

_Where are you going anyways? – JW_

It wasn’t any surprise that John felt more confident via text. It was easier than looking at those powerful blue-grey eyes and have them deduce your every thought.

_Like I said John, personal matters. I am taking a train and I’ll be back Sunday evening. – SH_

Sherlock wanted to tell him the truth and practiced for a moment in text.

_(1/3)I come from a long line of very unique people. We don’t have just one physical shape but two. It’s a subspecies of the human race, very rare and not likely to be noticed you probably couldn’t even tell unless you touched my skin which you don’t. My skin is always warm to the touch because of it. Sometimes if the light shines just the right way my eyes will change color._

_(2/3) I have a great sense of smell and I know when you change shampoo, on that note go back to the stuff that cost an extra quid, smells better. I can hear things from a greater distance and I know what you say to Mrs. Hudson when you think I can’t hear. My eyes are sharper than most that’s how I noticed the hair today on the case._

_(3/3) I am a were-person and yes it’s like a werewolf but I don’t change into a mutt but something a little more mythical and perhaps you should see in person. – SH_

That entire message sat on his phone but he never sent the send button and quickly back spaced it all. It wasn’t important that John know what he was, it wasn’t like the clever doctor cared enough to worry more than a best friend would or a flat mate. Deleting the message and pushing his phone back in his pocket he settled into his seat and waited for the carriage to start.

 

Meanwhile back at 221B a doctor Watson came home to an empty flat and fought back a sign, before moving to sit in Sherlock’s chair, reaching down to pick up the violin that had been hidden under it, his rough fingers ghosted over the strings as he sat there a moment, remember a few hours ago with a longing silence.


	2. Freedom

The entire trip took over six hours and about another hour until he was at the secluded cabin. The cabin wasn’t on any maps and it was Mycroft’s careful planning to ensure that. It was taken care of by an old man, who like the brother’s parents wasn’t able to change shape but knew of the sub-species. It was important that the area was kept secret and Mycroft went out of his way to pay the man handsomely to keep the brothers secret. Sherlock thanked the man as he exited the truck and headed into the old cabin. It was kept bare save for a pair of chairs and a large bed in the car corner, it was a simple building. Sherlock was weary from traveling and itching to get out and stretch into his other form but he wouldn’t risk it in the daylight. The area around the cabin was on the outskirts of a known mountain range that was during the summer months frequented by average people so he had to be careful. Snowdon Massif, wasn’t as active but judging by the people they passed driving up here it was clear that it wouldn’t be smart to let loose in the daylight. Instead he sought out his travel bag and emptied its contents on the bed. A dressing gown and two pairs of pajama bottoms were thrown toward a small dresser, landing then falling onto the ground. A pack of cigarettes were found and hidden in the drawer of the nightstand, a package of patches placed on top of the nightstand. His laptop was left back at the flat but a special little gadget given to him by Mycroft that boosted the signal of his phone was thrown over to a vacant chair that also held his coat. Watching the sun start to set in the valley sheltered by the mountains he peeled off his shirt and suit jacket, careful with those to have them hung up and stripped of his trousers and kicked off his shoes. Sherlock reached for his dressing gown and pulled the warm robe over his bare skin and went to the backdoor of the cabin and open it wide. He was greeted with the rapidly cooling night air but found comfort in the chill as he waited for total darkness.   
\--  
John settled down to finish up his blog post with a cup of tea, his shared flat feeling empty and alone. Over time he had gotten used to Sherlock taking off randomly throughout the year and rarely questioned beyond when he’d be expected back but this time it felt different. It was no secret that John cared deeply for Sherlock and even if he hadn’t yet vocally admitted it, John loved the consulting detective but to what extent was somewhat of a mystery. The blond hadn’t ever truly experienced this kind of connection with anyone, not even with woman he dated for more than a few months. What he felt for Sherlock did not even come close to what he felt for women and his emotional response to his flat mate didn’t mean he was going to shag him senseless but it did beg the question if gender played a part on his romantic attachments. These puzzling thought and others circled around his head for what seemed like hours until his tea had gone cold. In a fit of frustration John shut his laptop and got up to pour his tea down the sink. Letting his tiresome thoughts drain away with his cold tea.   
\--  
Rapidly cooling air drifted in through the open window and had the dark haired man stirring in his chair. It was finally a good time to let go and enjoy true freedom. Clothing tends to be restricting and wouldn’t allow an easy shift and so Sherlock tossed his dressing gown behind him and greeted the late dusk air in the nude. His nostrils flared with the smell of the forest, his hands itched for the fix; the high of being free. Once more in human form he ran his fingers in his thick hair and walking toward the darkened forest. He didn’t slow his pace but instead rapidly picked it up until he was in a full run, sprinting for freedom, the release. A small hill that had a sharp drop was all he needed, racing toward as if his entire being relied on it, he jumped and let go.   
In a swirl of bright colors that almost looked like an explosion, Sherlock landed with a loud thump with the weight of his new body. He now reached well over his earlier height of 6 feet to a towering 10 feet, instead of smooth skin his entire body was now covered in thick scales that where boarder across his exposed belly. No longer did he have arms with delicate fingers but instead powerful wings that would easily spread over twenty feet, thick membrane allowed flight and in most cases ability to glide without exhausting efforts. Sherlock’s alternate form held true to some of his humans features, those aquamarine eyes still dazzled, his black hair had morphed to give his scales a dark look, that when under moon light seemed to shine. His face also carried the scales; his cheekbones gave way for a slender face and powerful jaw, a pair of horns sat high on his head and rounded back to provide a kind of battering ram if needed. Due to the lack of fore-legs, which would have felt unnatural to him, he walked using his hind-leg for momentum and his wings for stability, it might have looked odd but it was easy and not difficult to master. Like with every shift Sherlock was careful to ease into moving, it was hard for his brain to locate the information he had stored on his dragon form but once he found it and put it to good use, his movements became fluid. His nose was now able to pick up and sort out every smell, his eyesight sharp and if he focused could see the smallest of bugs in the grass below him, his ears that remained hidden among his scales were capable to picking up faint sound of wind swirling. Overall his senses where maximized which always thrilled him. Not wanting to waste his nighttime he hurried along toward a more open part of the forested area, a good span of space would allow him to take flight.   
With wings spread wide Sherlock ran again this time timing the beats of his wings to the stride in his step. It didn’t take long to get the hang of it again until he rose off the ground into an upward spiral, the rush of freedom feeling his entire body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates every monday  
> comment ideas for cases so it doesn't end early

**Author's Note:**

> I'm combining a few cultures here and trying to see what I get. It will be a slow build to Johnlock mostly because i like the boy itching for each other.  
> Also sorry with the texting got confusing and no Sherlock hasn't told John and it probably won't happen for a while. I'll hopefully post chapter two with in a few days told from both their lives while they are aprat. 
> 
> Any questions?  
> Comments?  
> Idea?
> 
> please send them to  
> hellion_wolf@aol.com
> 
> or my tumblr  
> a-bit-of-a-hellion.tumblr.com


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